Coefficient of Restitution
by Mizzykitty
Summary: Contrary to what some might think, Daniel hasn't always had money. He worked his way through graduate school, and there were times when it was tough making ends meet. But he's nothing if not resourceful, and somehow, he always found a way to pay the bills.


**_The Coefficient of Restitution is the ratio of the relative velocity after impact to the relative velocity before impact of two colliding bodies, equal to 1 for an elastic collision and 0 for an inelastic collision._**

Daniel sat in his car, parked out in front of his flat, and glared at his clothes in disgust.

Three days ago, he'd received a letter from his bank stating that he had maxed out his student loans for the semester, and that they would not be resetting till the following year. In other words, bank's closed, frak you very much. That might have been ok, if five days ago, he hadn't spent the last of his money on fixing his godsdamned good for nothing car. Now it wasn't just a temporary cash flow problem, it was an absolutely flat broke for the foreseeable future problem. Rent had come due two days ago, and yesterday, Tomas had taken the opportunity to "remind" him about it in that very snarky, smarmy, holier than thou way that only Tomas seemed able to manage. If Daniel didn't pay up soon, he could probably expect to meet a large Tauron in a dark alley in the very near future. Well, that was probably not true, Tomas wouldn't do that, but Daniel took his financial commitments very seriously, and he wasn't about to welch on his half of the rent, even if Tomas could afford it.

Tonight, out of sheer desperation, he'd gone to amateur night at the Paradox strip club. He'd heard that you could make serious cash, no experience necessary. Now, years of being the last kid picked for pyramid had taught him that his level of hand-eye coordination was well below average, but he'd also learned over the years that enthusiasm could make up for a lot. Either way, he'd figured that he had nothing to lose.

On balance, the gamble had worked out in his favor. He hadn't been great, but he hadn't been terrible either, and he'd even managed to enjoy some aspects of the evening. More importantly, however, he'd come home with fistfuls of sweaty cash. It wasn't a truckload by any means, but it was enough to pay the rent, and that's really all he'd been after. What he hadn't counted on was all this godsdamned stripper glitter!

"Frak!" he cursed.

No matter how hard he brushed at that horrible sparkly shit, he couldn't get it off! It was on his skin, on his clothes, in his hair. He couldn't go into the house looking like this! Sweaty, yes, disheveled, yes, but covered in sparkles? Hell no! Tomas would never, _ever_ let him hear the end of it! _Ever_. He would be Dr. Stripper, Ph.D. (but something far more witty and catchy than that, because inventive mocking was Tomas's specialty) till the day he died.

He sighed. Well, he couldn't just sit in the car all night. At some point, he would have to go inside, if for no other reason than to shower, because he'd been sitting in the car long enough for the miasma of sex and sweat that surrounded him to permeate the enclosed space, and it was pretty damned disgusting. Finally, he took some deep breaths, steeled himself, and got out of the car. All he had to do was get past the living room without being noticed. If he could do that, he'd be home free.

"Hey," Daniel said casually as he walked into the living room.

Tomas grunted at him and waved, too engrossed in the Bucs game to even bother looking up. Daniel silently thanked Athena. He was almost to the hallway when Tomas said, "Hey, Daniel, hang on a minute!"

Daniel swore under his breath. "Gimme a sec, I need to change."

"No, now, while it's commercials," Tomas said. He got up and cornered Daniel. "Listen, about the rent, I-"

"I've got it," Daniel interrupted. "Here," he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out the wad of cash. He slapped the whole mess into Tomas's hand. "This should cover it."

Tomas raised an eyebrow at him. "You suddenly have an aversion to wire transfers or something?" he said as he started to count the notes. Suddenly, he paused mid-count. "What is this stuff?" He made a face. "It's _sticky_!"

"I…got it from the…ah…bank," Daniel lied.

"The bank," Tomas repeated dryly. "You went to the bank and the teller just handed you a crumpled fistful of sticky, sparkly cubits." He squinted at Daniel. "Who do you think you're fooling? And…what is that in your hair?"

"Nothing!" Daniel protested, dodging Tomas's hand. "Look, the game's back!" he pointed, and tried to run.

Not fooled in the slightest, Tomas grabbed him by the arm and pushed him up against the wall. He peered closely at him, his eyes getting gradually wider as he took in all the salient details. "That's stripper glitter!" he exclaimed. "You came _away_ from a strip club with money!"

Daniel felt his face heat with shame. "Look, it was just this one time. I went to the bank, and they said I was maxed out for the year. I didn't know what else to do."

Tomas released him and took a step back. After a moment, he said, "Gods, Daniel, I had no idea it was that bad. You could've told me."

"It's _not_ that bad," Daniel said firmly. "I've dealt with the situation – everything's fine."

"No, it's not fine," Tomas said. "Here, take your money."

"No!" Daniel exclaimed, jerking back as if Tomas had just offered to give him a disease-ridden hypodermic syringe.

"For frak's sake, Daniel, I'm not going to take money from you when I know-"

"Yes, you are," Daniel insisted. "I'm not going to let you pay for-"

"Shhh, stop," Tomas said, effectively silencing him. "Listen to me. There's two months left till the end of the year. What are you going to do for rent next month, and the month after that? How are you going to pay your bills, and eat, and put gas in your car? Or do you plan on making this a regular thing?"

"I'll figure it out!" Daniel snapped.

"Look, if you live cheap, and I mean _really_ cheap, this should be enough to get you through to the end of the year, _if_ you don't have to pay the rent-"

"Stop right there! I don't need your charity, so just-"

Tomas cut him off with a hard shove that knocked the wind out of him when his back hit the wall. "Fine, you don't want charity, then you can damn well work for it!"

"Wh-"

Tomas kissed him hard, lips and tongue aggressively laying claim to his mouth, and his body responded as only it could after spending all damned night in a frakking strip club simulating sex but not actually getting to have any. He kissed Tomas back with equal fervor, and reached down to unzip Tomas's pants. Tomas twined his fingers in his hair as he moved south, licking and sucking along his jaw line. He had managed to unbuckle Tomas's belt, but he was still fumbling with the top button when Tomas yanked his head back and sank his teeth into the side of his neck. He jerked in surprise, moaning involuntarily at the rush of pain and pleasure that raced down his spine and straight to his cock. Incensed by the tacit encouragement, Tomas grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and stripped it off him with little ceremony. Tomas's expression darkened momentarily when he took in the fine layer of sparkly dust on his freckled skin, but then he shoved him up against the wall and kissed him so vehemently that Daniel could practically taste the unspoken "MINE" on Tomas's tongue. Undeterred in his task despite the distractions, he resumed his attack on the top button of Tomas's pants. Finally, success! Tomas's pants slid soundlessly to the floor.

Tomas roughly pushed him down onto his knees. Daniel glanced up at him in surprise, somewhat taken aback by the intensity of the need in Tomas's eyes. Without hesitation, he wrapped his lips around Tomas's cock and swallowed him down. Tomas groaned, one of his hands coming up to seize a fistful of his hair. Tomas didn't jerk him forward, though, didn't just frak his face like a convenient hole. He let him do as he pleased, let him dictate the pace. Daniel moved in and out, setting up a sustained friction with lips and tongue. Tomas leaned his head back, mouth open, small, incoherent noises escaping him from time to time. Daniel smirked around the cock in his mouth. He may be the one on his knees, but who was the one in control here?

After a few minutes, however, Tomas suddenly pulled him off his cock. "Down," he grunted.

Daniel snorted at the command, but he allowed Tomas to push him down onto his elbows. That's when he noticed the money – the five hundred or so grubby cubits - scattered on the floor around them. He was about to make a joke about frakking on a pile of money when Tomas tongued his hole and he almost bolted out of his skin.

"Oh, frak!" he gasped, pressing his forehead to the cold marble floor in the hopes that it might distract him from coming right then and there. Tomas's tongue, warm, and wet, flicked around his opening, teasing him till he could barely stave off orgasm. "Tomas, stop, I can't," he panted breathlessly.

"Hmmm?" Tomas hummed.

"Oh, gods!" Daniel's hands clenched spastically around a fistful of cubits. "Please, Tomas…"

"What?" Tomas asked.

A saliva-slick finger pushed into him, and he moaned loudly.

"Is this what you wanted?" Tomas asked.

"Yes, more, please…"

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Tomas purred as he added a second finger. He slowly thrust his fingers in and out. "Is this what you want, then?"

"Yes…no!"

"Well, which is it, Danny? I'm not a mind reader, you know," Tomas said, just before he added a third finger.

"Oh gods, Tomas!" Daniel choked.

"Ye~es, Daniel?"

"F-frak me already!" Daniel growled, shaking with the effort of keeping his orgasm in check. "Please, Tomas, I can't, please frak me, oh gods, yes, please," he babbled, degenerating into an inchoate stream of nonsensical begging.

He was rewarded a moment later when Tomas slipped into him, easy as anything. He groaned - gods, it was like coming home after a long day and slipping between fresh sheets.

"Cockslut," Tomas grunted in his ear.

Daniel laughed breathlessly. There was no point in denying it, but it wasn't just the sex he enjoyed. It was the raw _power_ of it, the ability to frak someone so spectacularly that they would never be able to frak anyone else again without comparing them to you. And tonight when he was up there on that stage, that had been a kind of power too. Look, but don't touch. You can want me, but you can't have me.

Tomas frakked him with long, hard strokes, each of which he met with a backwards thrust.

"Harder," he demanded. He dropped his shoulders and arched his back, forcing Tomas to shift and change his angle slightly.

Tomas suddenly growled something obscene sounding in Tauron, his carefully measured pace degenerating into a fast and erratic free for all.

Daniel smirked, although he was probably going to be very sore tomorrow. "Getting your…money's worth?" he gasped.

In answer, Tomas bit him sharply on the shoulder.

"Oh, frak!" Daniel came unexpectedly, without having touched himself once, pleasure ripping through him with an intensity that took his breath away.

Tomas laughed out loud in disbelief. "I win."

"You win," Daniel agreed grudgingly when he was finally coherent enough to respond.

They competed in everything; sex was no exception, and whoever came first lost. Daniel hadn't lost in some time, so he was actually a little disappointed in himself. He figured it was probably because of the strip club, though. With a sigh, he peeled a sticky cubit off his forearm and waited patiently for Tomas to frak himself to completion. The continued stimulation, though borderline over-intense, was more or less tolerable. But when Tomas bit him again, he flinched because frak, that actually hurt! Fortunately, the clench of his body around Tomas's cock turned out to be just enough to send Tomas over the edge, and after a few more shallow thrusts, he felt Tomas relax against him.

It took Tomas a moment to collect himself and catch his breath before he rolled over onto his back. Exhausted and shivering from being pressed against the cold marble floor, Daniel crawled over and draped himself over Tomas's warm body.

"You ok?" Tomas asked, propping himself up just enough to inspect Daniel's neck and shoulders.

"Fine," Daniel answered. Yeah, that last one had hurt more than usual, but it was probably because he'd already come. He very much doubted that Tomas would've been so reckless as to bite him hard enough to break the skin. Tomas was always in control of himself, even in the throes of orgasm. But, Tomas still insisted on checking him every time. Secretly, Daniel thought he just liked to inspect his handiwork. He was well aware of how the clusters of dark, multicolored bruises stood out against his pale skin. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't particularly thrilled with being marked like a possession, but Taurons, well, they had a thing for marking. He was just relieved that Tomas hadn't asked to tattoo something more permanent somewhere on his body.

Satisfied with his inspection, Tomas laid back down and wrapped his arms around him. They lay like that for a bit, just cuddling in the afterglow. Eventually, however, Tomas broke the silence.

"Danny, why didn't you tell me about the money? Did you think I wouldn't understand?"

Daniel groaned. "Come on, Tomas…"

Tomas pushed Daniel off of him and sat up. "I mean it. It hurts me that you'd rather debase yourself in front of total strangers than ask your boyfriend for help."

"It's not about you," Daniel said. "I just…I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Tomas said, "but there's no shame in accepting help from people who care about you."

Daniel shot him an exasperated look.

"I'm Tauron. We take care of our own," Tomas said gravely.

"Yeah? Well, I'm a Graystone, and we take care of ourselves," Daniel shot back.

Tomas sighed. "You know, one day I'm gonna have to beat that stubborn pride right out of you."

Daniel snorted. "You can try."

Tomas stared at him for a long moment before he said, "Well, at least you have a viable backup plan now, in case this robotics engineering thing doesn't pan out."

Daniel frowned. "What?" He looked up sharply to find Tomas's lips twitching with a barely contained smirk.

"Dr. Graystone couldn't complete his Ph.D. in robotics engineering because he failed to take into account the coefficient of restitution of his tuition check. However, he _does_ have a Ph.D. in _stripping_ and by Ph.D., I mean pretty huge-"

"Tomas!"

But it was too late - Tomas's face was split ear to ear with an incorrigible grin. "Dr. Graystone's thesis was on the effect of water-based lubricants on the friction and wear of mating surfaces!"

"You're not funny," Daniel informed him, although he could barely keep a straight face.

"I'm hilarious," Tomas declared as he got up off the floor. "Come on, Dr. Graystone." He offered Daniel a hand. "Let's go investigate the effects of friction, sodium lauryl sulfate and water on stripper glitter!"

Daniel couldn't help but laugh at that. "At the risk of introducing research bias, I think the outcome will be favorable."

* * *

**Author's notes:**

I apologise profusely for the physics/engineering/chemistry jokes. They...kind of got away from me there at the end. Here they are defined.

Coefficient of Restitution: In layman's terms, the COR is a measure of the "bounciness" of an object.

Mating Surfaces: Points where different parts of an assembly come into contact with one another. (Googling mating surfaces will get you all sorts of amusing results regarding proper cleaning and lubrication of these surfaces.)

Sodium Lauryl Sulfate is the active ingredient in soap.

Research bias is when a researcher skews the outcome of a study by allowing his/her own beliefs to influence the methodology used and/or the interpretation of the results.


End file.
